


Angel in Flight

by ANobleCompanion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fear of Flying, Fluff, Flying, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has fallen and he's found something to replace his wings and he wants to share it with Dean.  Dean's not so sure he can take it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel in Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shellygurumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi/gifts).



> Happy birthday Michelle! 
> 
> Thanks to tundraeternal for the beta!

It took Cas a month to make it back to the bunker after the fall.  It was three more months before he started vanishing again.  

From the moment he knocked on the door of the bunker and Dean pulled him inside with a tight hug, the hunter had kept a close eye on his friend, always sure this wasn’t permanent.  After all, it never was.  

Those first months, Cas moved around like a ghost.  He seemed almost fragile, as though the loss of his Grace had truly diminished him.  Dean wondered if that missing part of his friend could ever be filled.  Was it possible for Cas to be complete as a human?  Dean would do anything he could to get Cas’s Grace back, but they had all acknowledged the possibility that it might have been lost, transformed or mutilated by whatever Metatron had done to it when he expelled the angels from Heaven.  

When Cas first started disappearing, it was only once a week or so, and Dean wasn’t overly concerned.  After all, he was never gone more than three or four hours at a time.  But then Cas started to leave the bunker more frequently.  When he came back, he was steadier, more sure of himself than he had been since before the fall.  The time he did spend in the bunker, he fidgeted, walking around without a purpose, constantly needing to move.  

Dean started to worry.  What was Cas doing outside the bunker?  He was glad Cas didn’t seem to be as lost as he first did - but it clearly wasn’t Dean who was helping him.  It wasn’t being with the Winchesters.  Dean felt worse than useless.  He was sure that one day soon, Cas would choose whatever it was that was drawing him out into the world - fulfilling him in ways that their small family couldn’t - over Dean.  Really, it was just a matter of time.  

So as Cas grew stronger again, more confident, Dean began to withdraw, building walls around himself so it wouldn’t hurt so damn _much_ this time when Cas walked away.  Sam and Kevin both tried to ask him about it, but he brushed them off, usually by changing the discussion to what they would like for dinner.  Some days though, Dean couldn’t make any kind of conversation and he either hid himself in his room or went down to the firing range and worked his way through several rounds.  

He tried not to take it out on Cas.  The last thing he wanted to do was push his friend out the door faster, but Dean had trouble maintaining the balance between protecting himself and pretending nothing was wrong.  Some days he went out of his way try and include Cas, whether by teaching him how to cook, making sure he knew how to properly sort his laundry or some other aspect of being human.  Other times, Dean avoided him altogether.  

Finally, the day came when Cas walked back into the bunker from one of his mysterious jaunts with a smile on his face bigger than any Dean could ever recall seeing him wear.  His heart lifted in happiness to see Cas looking so _joyful_ even as his stomach sank in despair because the joy was caused by something (or some _one_ ) out _there_.  He was certain Cas would be gone by the end of the week.

 

* * *

 

The next morning at breakfast, Cas sat down at the table next to Dean.  Dean could tell from his body language that Cas had a secret to reveal - possibly an explanation for his many absences.  Cowardly though he knew it was, Dean couldn’t lift his eyes from the cereal in his bowl as he asked, “Hey, Cas, what’s up?”

“Dean, are you free this afternoon for a few hours?” Cas asked.  

Dean did look up then, surprised.  He had been sure Cas was getting ready to tell him he was leaving, not check Dean’s schedule.  

“Sure, I can be.  What’s up?”

“I - I would like to take you somewhere.” There was a hesitancy in Cas’s voice Dean couldn’t figure out.  He suspected he was about to find out where Cas had been running off to the last several weeks. Did Cas think he wouldn’t approve?  Was it a person rather than a place?  Dean felt a twinge he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge at the thought that Cas might have found a girl - or a guy - that could make him happier than Dean.  Dean wasn’t sure he could handle that, but he also couldn’t deny Cas.  Not when he was looking at Dean as though he had the ability to pull the whole world out from under him.  

“Sure.  What time do you want to go?” Dean’s agreement seemed to shake some of the nerves out of Cas as he let out a breath and smiled.

“Can you be ready in an hour?”

“No problem.  Where are we going?”

Cas’s gaze shifted a little to the side and now he was the one not quite meeting Dean’s eyes.  “It’s something I’ve been - learning.  I want to share it with you, if you’ll let me.”

That wasn’t much of an answer, but Dean could tell Cas was avoiding so he let it pass for now.  

An hour later, he and Cas were sitting in the Impala and Cas was directing him where to go.  

They stuck primarily to major roads and it was soon clear they weren’t going anywhere local.  Once they crossed the state border into Nebraska, Dean’s curiosity was about to explode, but Cas refused to divulge their final destination.  

Cas started to relax as they approached a small town called Hastings about an hour and half later, and Dean figured they must be near their end point.  Then it was Dean’s turn to tense up as he realized Cas was leading them around the edge of the city and right up to an…

“Oh _hell_ no, man.”

“Dean,” Cas’s eyes turned to him imploringly.  “Please, we’ve come all this way.  Please.  I really want to share this with you.”  

And damn him for not being able to tell Cas no.  When had _that_ really happened anyway?  He used to be able to tell him no fine - when the damned angel had bothered to ask.  And maybe that was it - he wanted Cas to know he could ask and not be rejected.  

But this?  This was asking more than Dean could handle.  

Sitting in front of them was a small, nondescript airport. It wasn’t even big enough to have a tower.  There were two runways laid out at an angle to each other with several hangers behind them.  

Dean spoke before he could really think, his twisting nerves firing before his brain could connect with his mouth.  “Cas, man.  I don’t _do_ planes.  You know this.”

Dean winced and kicked himself as he watched Cas’s face fall.  Would this be enough to send Cas out the door?  Cas’s voice was small when he spoke.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  You’re right.  I shouldn’t have asked.  You don’t have to come up with me.  Would you at least come look at the plane?”

Dean was ready to do almost anything - almost - to reverse Cas’s deflated attitude.  “Sure, dude.  I can do that.”  

Cas smiled again, but this time it was small and more relieved that happy.  Dean felt like a piece of shit and really wished he wasn’t just so damn terrified of the plane falling out of the sky.  

The plane in question was inside a private hangar.  It was small, with one propeller on the front.  Something seemed a little odd about it’s shape, but Dean didn’t know enough about planes to be able to identify what it was.

Cas seemed to light up a little more as they approached.  He ran his hand almost reverently over the white wing, letting it glide towards the body of the aircraft.  

“What kind of plane is it?” Dean asked, determined to show some interest and enthusiasm on this outing.  

“It’s a Mooney.  They’re easy to identify by the shape of their vertical stabilizers.  It’s inverted from your typical rudder.”  Cas pointed towards the tail end of the plane as he spoke, which was good because otherwise, Dean would have had no idea what he was talking about.  

When he looked more closely though, he realized that was why the plane seemed off.  Sure enough, the tail looked like someone had put it on backwards.  He moved closer to Cas just as Cas stepped up onto a black, sandpaper-textured portion of the wing to open the door.  Dean peered into the small windows.  There were four small seats - though the term might be generous when applied to the back two seats where legroom was almost non-existent - and a storage area at the rear.  

Cas reached across the front seat and grabbed a notebook and an iPad mini.  When Dean looked at him questioningly, Cas held up the notebook and said “I need to do the preflight check and log a flight plan.”

Dean frowned.  “Shouldn’t there be someone here flying with you?  Whose plane is this anyway?”

“The plane belongs to the airport.  They have a program where pilots can rent it for a day if they don’t have their own.”

“Who’s the pilot?” Dean asked, still confused.  

“I am, Dean,” Cas said, meeting his friend’s eye.  “This is where I’ve been coming the past few weeks.  I’ve been taking flying lessons.  I passed the test for my license yesterday. I was hoping you would be willing to come with me on my first solo flight.”

Dean could feel something pulsing off of Cas.  More than pride.  It was a piece of something that he’d lost; it almost took Dean’s breath away to see it again.  The look Cas was giving him begged him to understand.  And Dean did.

“You can fly again.”

The smile that broke across Cas’s face told Dean that he had nailed it.  It also settled something.  

Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to do this.  But he would, for Cas.  Because he knew this was something Cas needed to share.  

“I’ll do it,” Dean said in a rush, speaking before he could change his mind.

Cas froze and looked at Dean.  “What?”

“I’ll go up with you Cas. I mean, I guess I couldn’t be with anyone more experienced, right?  You’ve been flying for several millennia after all.”  Dean tried to keep his voice light even though his gut was already twisting itself into a thousand knots and threatening to release into a full blown panic attack.  

“Dean, are you sure?” Cas looked at him intently.

“No, man.  Not at all.  Don’t ask me again or I’m not gonna be able to go through with it.  Now give me something to work on so I’m not thinking about what I’m about to do.”

Cas nodded, not saying anything more to Dean other than to give him instructions on how to help with the preflight requirements.  Dean helped him check the tanks for water, make sure the rear flaps were clear and functioning and even cracked a joke at the plugs that were tucked snugly into the nose of the plane on either side of the propeller to prevent birds from building nests.  

Finally they were ready.  The door was on the passenger side, so Dean let Cas climb in first before he followed. His nerves had dissipated during their preparations, but now they returned in full force.  He cinched his belt tight around his waist and put the headphones over his ears.  He closed his eyes and let ‘Enter Sandman’ play through his head while Cas situated himself in the pilot’s seat and pulled up a digital flight map on the GPS which he strapped to his thigh with a nifty holster.  

Dean was vaguely aware of a voice over the headphones reading off a series of numbers, which Cas dutifully wrote down on the pad strapped to his other thigh.  Then Cas opened the window, shouted, “ _Clear!_ ”  and the prop burst to life, moving so rapidly that it became nearly invisible in his field of vision.  Dean’s stomach dropped before they even started moving and he wished he’d thought to grab a vomit bag just in case.

No. He was not going to be sick on Cas’s first flight as a pilot.  The plane inched forward as Cas awaited his turn to be cleared for take off.

Then they were hurtling down the runway.  Somehow the speed seemed much greater in the smaller plane.  Maybe it was because he was so much more _aware_ of what was around him.  The ground was much closer, he could feel the vibrations of the engine the same way he could feel them in Baby.  It was like feeling the difference in the Impala versus a fancy pansy ass Prius.  He much preferred the Impala and so far, he liked being able to feel the Mooney.  He would _know_ if something went wrong.  

There was a joystick steering wheel thing in front of him, just like there was in front of Cas and Dean supposed it was in case Cas had a co-pilot in the plane with him.  The joystick moved in tandem with the one Cas was handling.  As soon as Dean had a chance to notice this, they tilted back slightly and the stutter of the runway gave way to the smooth buoyancy of wind and air.  

Cas was in his element and the take off was far less dramatic than Dean expected.  They were only cleared for 800 feet, which Cas explained was actually rather high for a small, recreational plane, but still well below the level of commercial jetliners.  At least Dean wouldn’t have to worry they would crash into one of those.  

They had been flying for about twenty minutes, Dean’s eyes firmly trained on the instrument panel in front of them, feigning interest in their various functions while astutely avoiding the horizon or the ground 800 freaking feet below them, when Cas turned to him.  “Would you like to try handling her for a bit?”

Dean started.  “What the _hell_ , man? You want me to _fly_ this thing? On what planet does that seem like a good idea?”

“Don’t worry Dean.  I’ll take care of the yaw and the tension, you just handle the yoke.”  

Dean would have understood Cas better if he had spoken in Enochian.  Cas smiled wryly.  “Take the wheel, Dean.  You’re in charge of up and down and side to side.  I’ll handle the pitch and the speed.”

Dean nodded.  He could do that.  He was a good driver after all.  He could do left and right.  He just had to watch the up and down.  

Hesitantly, he reached out and took the joystick thing in front of him, which in fairness, really did look more like a race car wheel cut in half than a joystick, and pushed forward slightly.

Suddenly, the nose of the plane dropped.

“ _Shit!_ ” Dean exclaimed, letting go.  Cas immediately grabbed his wheel, yoke, whatever, and righted the plane.  

“Oh hell no, Cas.  I’m not doing that again.”

“Dean.  It’s fine.  You just aimed the nose down.  I should have shown you what that action would do.  If you need to lower your altitude, you push forward, if you need to raise it, pull back.  To shift the direction right or left, its just like the Impala.  Mooney’s are very sensitive though.  It only takes a very small amount of pressure to change the direction.  You keep track of your altitude and direction by looking at these dials,” Cas pointed to the appropriate gauges on the panel.  “Though you can also guide yourself by picking a specific landmark on the horizon and keeping the nose of the plane aimed towards that.”

Dean nodded and gingerly put his hands back on the yoke.  If he was gonna do this, he might as well call things by their proper name.  Now that he knew what to expect, he realized he wasn’t thinking as much about how they might plummet out of the sky at any second.  Instead, he was focused on the adjustments brought about by the minute application of pressure with his hands and even fingers.  The single mindedness of the action was almost calming and even the worries about the fallen angels, and what they were going to do with Crowley, or the fact that Abaddon was still on the loose, all seemed to fall away like the ground beneath them, eaten up by their airspeed and pushed along by a nice tailwind.  Before long, Dean found his nerves had been replaced by sheer exhilaration.  He understood what Cas loved about flying; the freedom, the ability to leave the world behind, was addictive.  Dean still hadn’t worked up the nerve to really look out the window and see the world spread below him, but he thought maybe he would be willing to fly with Cas again.  Perhaps he would be able to work himself up to it.  

Eventually, Cas took over again and redirected them back to the airport.  Dean tensed up on the landing until the wheels were firmly back on the ground, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.  

After they had reversed the preflight process and secured the plane in the hanger, Dean brushed his hand over Cas’s wrist before wrapping his fingers around it lightly.

“I guess flying angel air isn’t so bad.  Thanks for sharing your wings with me, Cas.”

“There’s no one I’d rather share them with, Dean.” Cas spoke clearly as he looked Dean in the eyes.  Despite losing his Grace, Cas’s stare had not lost any of its intensity.  He turned it on Dean now and Dean felt a heat rising in his cheeks.  

“So, you’re not,” Dean swallowed, terrified to ask, but knowing he wouldn’t be able to take much more uncertainty, “You’re not planning on leaving anytime soon?”  

Cas reached up and placed his free hand on the nape of Dean’s neck and turned the hunter to face him.  “No, Dean.  I’m right where I want to be.”

He smiled and twisted the wrist Dean held so that their hands met and his fingers entwined with Dean’s.  He squeezed tightly before tugging Dean back towards the Impala and home.  


End file.
